


Idiosyncrasies

by Futago (Jumelles_Futago)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Sticky Sexual Interfacing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:49:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jumelles_Futago/pseuds/Futago
Summary: Percy goes to live in the Deadend for research purposes. Drift is assigned to protect him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright here we go. Words. /Chapters, holy shit I'm doing this. Lets see, I have this story listed as #8 on my long list of fic ideas for this pairing. Meaning I probably started writing this two-three years ago. To ring in the new year I give you this, enjoy.

The house from the outside looked like slag, just like every other building in various states of decay that were scattered about in the Deadend. Gapping roof, collapsed floor, shattered windows– in all, one could certainly do worse.

Inside though was a different story.

The first floor was a decoy, furnished minimally, it was meant to look like someone _could_ be living here, but had very little of anything of value to steal. _If_ someone got in, but that was a strong if. The real prize laid behind a wall that was not a wall and led down below to the hidden level of the house.

What filled this floor was something a little less common in the Deadend. Repaired to be structurally sound, it was to be the main living space. A table and seating made with the creative use of pieces of buildings; a working, enclosed washrack– abet it was a tank of water that was continuously re-filtered and gushed back out by a shoddy filtration system of a pump and filter-foamcore; and two erected sleeping cubes stuffed the floor. There was one more floor below that that was an empty square for versatility, though not for long.

To someone in the Deadend, these items were unimaginably expensive, and when they had been approached with the request, had thought to be impossible to fulfill. Apparently miracles can happen.

"Well, what do you think?" The voice besides him prodded for an answer.

Drift just grunted, taking in the room again with his optics. What did it matter what he thought? He was getting paid to live here as a bodyguard for whoever– he'd live in a dug-out hole again if it meant seeing some shinny shanxs. The house was just an addition that really didn't make a difference. But the expectant smile told him he wasn't going to let the question go.

" 's fine." he spoke, causing the mech to huff.

"That's all you have to say?"

Drift looked at him out of the corner of his optics. "Yeah."

"Not even a little happy? Or maybe you want something that's not here?" the mech pushed again, and Drift turned to face him fully, crossing his arms.

"What do you want me to say, Gasket?"

"I don't know, something! You're going to be spending a lot of time in here with a mech who's willing to pay for anything needed, thought you might want something..." Gasket trailed off.

It was Drift's turn to huff. Wants? He had them, everyone had them here, but he knew enough not to push for anything. This mech wanted to supply, fine, but he wasn't going to bleed him with frivolous requests. Though he was sure that's not what Gasket meant, he was many things but frivolous wasn't one of them.

"When's he coming?" he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

He may have mumbled curses, but Gasket let it change– Drift was much too stubborn for his patience, and Gasket had a lot of patience– "Should be here soon."

And right on que, the front door was heard being slammed open, followed by a rush of feet overhead, a pair pattering fast into the depths of the house before the door quickly closed. Drift was immediately bounding up the stairs to the hidden wall, his lines ready for a fight as he made it to the top landing. He pushed the hidden door open with no stealth involved, just his blaster proceeding his body as he stepped forward, his energy instantly commanding the room. There was a yelp that his aim quickly drew towards, a split klick analyzation taking place as his barrel lined up found the frightened mech to be of no danger– in fact, it was his charge, quaking like a sparkling afraid of the dark as he stared at him wide eyed. His aim then re-adjusted to the door before finding it too was nothing to fire upon.

Drawing the blaster down as his battle programs dropped to the background, his vents hissed "The slag is wrong with you coming in like that?" he growled at the mech at the door.

"Sorry, mech. Storm was starting to pick up." the mech apologized, melting against the door once Drift wasn't aiming at him anymore. "Wanted to get inside incase the Winds came." he panted, not at all in shape enough to make that sprint with grace– he was a more of a duck and hide type of mech.

Drift was still growling in his engine, and Gasket took that as his time to speak up "Well, we're glad you made it none the less, right?" Drift didn't answer back, but at least he cut his engine, holstering his weapon, and Gasket planted a smile on his face as he stepped towards their employer.

"You must be the scientist, Perceptor? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Gasket." he said softly, holding out his hand for a greeting.

The black helm swiveled to him from it's unrelenting focus on Drift, unwilling to take his optics off a mech that did just have a gun to his face. Seeing the outstretched hand and warm smile, he wrestled one of his own from his fast spinning spark and put a shaky hand in the other's "Y-yes, ah... The pleasure is all mine." his voice smooth, even with the stutter– no one could mistake him for something other than what he was– a mech of means, nobility of some form.

Gasket shook his hand slowly, grasping as well with his other servo and his smile deepened when the mech seemed to relax even more. The tight field that also eased outward at the friendliness was a jumble of fear, relief and curiosity. "I see you met Two-Step, who was so kind to fetch you. Apologies for not meeting you at the boarder ourselves, we were busy making sure everything was settled in here."

Perceptor shook his head, "No apologies necessary, he was very helpful."

"And this is Drift, he will be your bodyguard for the duration of your stay." he gestured towards said mech who was looking at the scientist with a neutral stare.

Perceptor's field dipped briefly to an over balance of fear, before resettling to a widening amount of curiosity and respect as he returned to gaze at the mostly dark mech. Ah, good, Drift wasn't opposed to him, and the scientist seemed interested as well. He was worried for a second that the little stunt Drift had pulled might make for a bad first impression, but they were both taking it in stride.

Easing out of Gasket's friendly handshake, Perceptor extends his hand to his bodyguard, giving an unsure smile "Thank you for your service."

Drift's focus tilts downwards at his outstretching hand, but he doesn't move to grasp it. For a long moment it was just everyone staring at Drift, motionless– down to the waiting hand and up the arm to the scientist, whose smile was waining slightly as the time went on– back to the hand– back to Drift, still staring. Perceptor almost retracts his hand to give an apology when Drift's servo, finally, slowly meets his own. He wraps him in a firm grip, one that Perceptor barely stops himself from grunting from and tried to give equal pressure in return. Somehow it felt like he needed to match him in this, and he hoped he did alright when Drift separates them with a hiss of expelling air.

"We should get you both settled, hm?" Gasket offers, eyeing the large but not suspiciously so crate magnetized to the scientist's back, now that the formalities were over.

Eager to set up, a big smile broke out across his face, and Perceptor gestured enthusiastically to the still ajar hidden door "Please, lead on!"

He fell into step behind Gasket as he moved forward; and was soon joined by Two-Step, who was also curious to see the finished housing he'd heard so much chatter about; and lastly Drift, taking up the rear like a proper guard. The group quickly reached the landing, and Perceptor was left speechless at the change from the above floor. Not visually, but his unique sensors mapped out the room, noting fresh welds and structural boosting, he was sure they'd think him crazy when he exhaled "Marvelous." as he looked about. He paused when he stepped in enough and noticed a hallowing under his peed– "You were able to procure another level?" he asked, surprise widening his optics as he looked towards Gasket.

"Ah, yes. An empty space for whatever you may need." Gasket answered, equally surprised he had known, but it was foolishness on his part. The mech worked in science; he undoubtedly had special mods that let him see far more than any normal mech could. "Sleeping quarters are here," he pointed to two side-by-side cubes pressed up against the wall to the left "and the washrack is through there." another, more massive cube fitted into the far corner of the floor.

"Perfect." Perceptor smiled, bouncing in to give room from the door before dropping to his knees. The trunk on his back de-magnitized with an un-impressive thud– but then it was a subspace pocket, and actually heavier than it felt.

"I don't mean to offend, but am I correct in hypothesizing there is no access to energon in here?" he asked, unlatching the lid.

Two-Step and Gasket watched him, curious of his movements. "Correct, unfortunately there's little in the ways of food in the Deadend–"

"Wouldn't be the Deadend if there where." Drift interrupted Gasket, taking a seat on a crude couch, if you could call two welded slabs that were once a corner on a building such.

"Yes, unfortunately this is so..."

Perceptor paused in setting the removed lid down. He had calculated that the vast differences in his upbringing would be a divide between him and his hosts that might possibly not be able to be overcome, but it was still horrifying to hear mechs unable to access basic needs for survival. Taking a breath, he gently placed the lid against the crate and made for the control panel, "It is no matter, I took precautions." he said into the screen, turning it on.

Two-Step shuffled forwards to look into the box, because he didn't know if it was his angle or not, but that was very much an empty box. "Is it supposed to be like that?" he asked, squinting at it.

Perceptor looked up from the loading screen, a bit surprised at the question, but took it with grace, "Y-yes, it's a subspace pocket. It's warming up right now, should be ready any second..."

He lingered a bit, but Two-Step seemed to take the answer for what it was, and so he quickly ducked back down at the screen.

98...99.......100%

The UI interface displayed on screen as the subspace field opened up in the box, filling it in a bright purple and fuschia mix. The suddenness caused Two-Step to draw back, startled at the now swirling essence. Perceptor scrolled through the items he'd cataloged till he found what he was looking for, and had the box call up the molecular structure to remove it.

"I packed a solar energon converter, it should provide enough for two during the duration of my research..." he spoke flusteredly, knowing all attentions had peaked and were now keenly focused on his hands disappearing into the glow. Carefully he removed the machine, solar absorbing mesh soldered to circutry-imbeded board that wire ran a lenght from to a plain looking box.

"Science dictates that I do not interfere with my subjects by giving them technology not common in their habitat..." Perceptor started to say, noticing a hardening his words created. "But, if you would allow me to do so, I would give this to you at the conclusion of my stay as thanks for your generous hospitality."

"Thank you, Perceptor. You could not begin to know what this would mean to us." Gasket was completely taken aback by his generosity. Words could not even describe how much such a contribution would help them. Ah, he knew the strange request passed through channels to him would work out well in the end. A blessing from Primus indeed!

Sheepish, Perceptor ducked his helm, feeling his face heat as he mumbled "I'm happy to help. I just wish it could be more..."

"Well, perhaps with the publication of your research, you just might." Gasket smiled, warming Perceptor's spark with his optimism. Perceptor would have to make sure that he produced the best paper he could.

"We'll get someone to come and install it tomorrow. I'm sure that you have much more to unpack, so we will leave you two to it." he said, taking ahold of Two-step, who'd been flirting with the edges of the box after Perceptor had pulled the contraption out, clearly wanting to touch but also cautious of the swirling glow. Rightfully so, and Gasket scolded him with his field before pulling him towards the stairs. "I trust, Drift, that you will explain the rest?"

Drift grunted his assent, but Gasket was confident he would make sure Perceptor knew everything he'd need to know.

"Oh , shall I see you two off?" Perceptor called, getting up from the floor.

"No need, Perceptor. Have a good orn."

"Bye." Two-Step called back, trailing behind Gasket, half dragged as they disappeared up the stairs.

"Good-bye..." he waved, finding himself a little lost with the decrease in pleasant company. Not that Drift wasn't, he was just... well, Perceptor couldn't really speak to his character quite yet, but he seemed nice enough, if reserved. And dangerous, which was good for body guarding...stuff.

...That was about all Perceptor knew of Drift really.

"Are you hungry?" Drift's voice startled him from his thoughts and he jumped in his frame a bit, turning around. He was standing now, and Perceptor noticed for the first time the mech was of a shorter stature than himself.

"N-no I, uh, I am sufficiently fueled. T-thank you." Perceptor replied, embarrassed by his stuttering, but Drift just regarded him evenly. "I- I should unpack the rest of the way..." he said, partly just to say something to the mech's staring.

There was a low noise from Drift as he moved, walking past the scientist and disappearing up the stairs. He wasn't gone long enough for Perceptor to relax, coming back down the steps not a klick later. Had he been checking the door?

Drift went to the wall past the habitat cubes lined up side-by-side and pushed open the second hidden entrance to the level below. At last he finally seemed to pause, and he turned to Perceptor, still soundless.

It took him a bit to realized Drift was waiting for him. "Oh– yes, coming!" Perceptor snapped into action, placing the conversion box safely off to the side and closing the subspace chest. He lugged it to Drift, who slipped in front of him this time and led him down the spiral stairs.

The only wonder the room had to give was that it had overhead lights, activated by a panel at the wall immediate to the stairs, which Drift turned on. But the bare canvas itself was enough for Perceptor. A chance to design a lab to his specification– it made him giddy.

Perceptor forgot all about Drift's presence in the face of such freedom, opening the subspace box again and pulling out item after item.

Seeing his charge completely engrossed in the task, Drift slipped back upstairs, confident he could return later and the mech would be none the wiser anyway. That and he didn't need to stand down there watching the mech's every move.

Funny little thing he was, this scientist Perceptor. Strong willed, he could see it in his optics and with how he shook his hand. But, he was naive; how much so and if it would effect his performance he couldn't yet say. In all though he didn't think the job bad, it met his criteria– paid well and the company wasn't sleaze.

At the landing he took in the room, still as he'd left it. Looking to the sleeping cubes, he decided then and there that Perceptor's was to be the one furthest from the entrance; one, because someone breaking in would come to the closest cube first; and two, because if the mech worked at odd hours, Drift didn't need him disturbing him by walking past his. Subsequently, that settled the reminder pined on his HUD on where to put the converter sitting against the wall. Drift would rather it not stay out in the open, considering it was highly valuable in these parts, regardless of the chance being slim that someone else would know what it was.

He picked it up delicately, remembering Perceptor's hand placement on the device and entered Perceptor's assigned quarters. Just as the outside suggested, the inside was nothing spectacular. There was a slab that was to be a berth, two planes of metal jutting out from the walls for shelving, and another low one for a table, perhaps. Drift placed the device there and left.

He decided to stay in the main room rather than sit in his own cube, and figured he'd check his guns while he waited for the mech to come upstairs. The late evening quietly rolled into night as he disassembled each weapon down to its base parts, tested them, and reassembled with meticulous care. A low rumble from above is the only thing that made him pause from his work. The Winds Two-Step had been trying to avoid seemed to finally come. Its gale of paint-striping ferocity battered the structures above, and howled throughout the Deadend, pushing everything in its path up towards the boarder wall. The sharp zing of the Rust Sea it brought with it, though severly less toxic, still made his nose itch where it seeped under the door. Drift listened a moment more, before turning back to the blaster partly put together. He would have to keep an audial out for any squatters tonight, although he was sure the door was secure, but it was his job to make absolutely certain they were safe.

The scientist doesn't emerge until quite some time later, when Drift has finished a long time ago and now lounged listening to the storm. He hears him coming well before he speaks.

"Ah, there you are. I didn't even see you leave." he sounded embarrassed again, but Drift didn't care. At least he admitted to being oblivious, for all the good it will do him.

"I know." Drift replied flatly. The gales had quieted once more.

"If– Please let me know if I'm ever being unnecessarily dense. I hired you to protect me, but don't let me be more of a burden then I should be." he said after a beat, firm and even a hint of defiance in his voice.

Drift sits up to look at him; his optics holding that fire just like his words, even if his body bows a bit in uncertainty. He was afraid of upsetting Drift– something Drift couldn't blame him for feeling since he was his only protection outside these walls. But his hands show he's resolved in this; a willingness in him to make this work between them.

"Alright." he finally says to Perceptor.

Gasket's request pinged at him, now more than before.

He kicks out a chair at the table, making Perceptor jump at the suddenness. He looks at Drift, curious.

"Sit. There are things to discuss. Rules you must obey."

Drift could tell he was tired from the no doubt long day he's had, but this was important, something his charge realized easily.

Perceptor sat.


End file.
